


Sometimes He Forgets

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrienette is Not Adrienette, Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Happy Endings are for Cowards, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tissue Box Warning, light fluff, post-hawkmoth defeat, post-identity reveal, the closest thing to Adrienette I'll probably ever write again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: Sometimes – on the bad nights, after the stressful days – he still wakes up in the middle of the night.  Sometimes he still forgets they won.





	Sometimes He Forgets

**Author's Note:**

> Future/adult-fic, post-Gabriel’s defeat. Angst and TBW with sprinkles of fluff – I wrote the ending first because I like to hurt people. Technically, this fic is Adrienette, but I’m putting this out here now: I don’t write them as endgame anymore and there are no happy endings here. This was inspired by that post on Tumblr where Adrien’s freaking out over Marinette being Ladybug, only she’s lying next to him and going, “BABE. WE’RE MARRIED.” It started as silly and fluffy, but…well. If you’re new around here, the tissues are in the corner. (This has been sitting ‘done’ for a while. It’s as done as it’s gonna be, at least.)
> 
> The post: https://verfound.tumblr.com/post/184355252947/pyropi-imploder-brettanomycroft

“Marinette is Ladybug!”

He sits bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and heart pounding with the realization. His Lady. His good friend. They’ve been the same person this whole time.

“Marinette…is Ladybug…” he says again, slower. He pulls his knees up to his chest and drags his hands across his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. “Marinette is Ladybug.”

“I am,” she says groggily from his side, “and if you don’t let me get some sleep before my five AM shipment comes in I’m going to strangle you with your own belt, Chaton.”

He blinks and turns his head, taking in the bluebell eyes – more of a cobalt, really, in the dim light – glaring blearily at him.

“Adrien. Go back to sleep,” she says, and he nods before lying back down and wrapping his arms around her.

That’s right. Marinette is Ladybug, and Marinette is his wife.

He knew that.

– V –

He smiles when he sees her face on his screen.

“You had the dream again.”

His smile doesn’t go away at the somber tone of her voice, not entirely.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says, glancing at the clock. He imagines her in her studio, surrounded by a million bolts of fabric the delivery guy unceremoniously dumped on her back door. “How bad did Javi mess up this time?”

“I love the guy, I do,” she says with an aggravated huff, “but I swear to God, Adrien, if he doesn’t get his act together I’m going to have to go with another company.”

“You won’t,” he chuckles. “You’ve been saying that for over a year now. You love Javi.”

“Shut up,” she chides. “Seriously, though. Are you ok, minou?”

Was he?

“I’m fine, Marinette,” he says firmly. “It’s just been a bit stressful this week, what with exams coming up. But I’m fine.”

“It’s just been so long since you’ve woken up like that…”

“I know, but I’m fine. If it happens again I’ll call Dr. Thomas. I promise,” he says, and he hopes it’s enough to convince her. She hums in response, and he knows it wasn’t. “I love you, Marinette. Now get back to work, ok? If you don’t let me go I’m going to be late for class.”

“Ok, ok…” she sighs. “Knock ‘em dead, Chaton. I love you.”

– V –

Of course, it’s harder around this time of year, but he hadn’t even considered that until he’s sitting behind his desk and staring at the calendar spread out before him. Next week will be ten years.

An entire decade since the villain known as Hawkmoth terrorized Paris. Since the absent father Gabriel Agreste was unmasked as a criminal.

And two weeks after that, the day when – ten years ago – an enraged, grieving civilian shot Gabriel Agreste through the heart on his way to an arraignment hearing.

Adrien sighs and takes a long sip from his coffee mug. He had spent three weeks in a psych ward after the shooting, and he’d been in and out of therapy ever since. More out than in these days, but there are still days when it’s hard. Days that are too stressful, nights that are too long, and times – even now, even ten years later – where he forgets. Forgets that his father was Hawkmoth, forgets that his ‘missing’ mother was actually dead in their basement, forgets that Marinette is Ladybug.

She’s been a Godsend, though. Always patient. Always kind. Always waiting for him to wade through the murk of his mind on the bad days, and always ready to laugh with him through the good days. He doesn’t know where he’d be without her, honestly.

He grabs his phone, sending her a heart emoji before he finally settles in to get ready for the day.

He has three groups of lycéen to torture with physics exams today, after all.

– V –

“M’Lady, no!”

He jerks awake hard enough to give himself whiplash – or maybe that’s just his head banging against the glass coffee table on his way to the ground. He’s pulled the throw from the back of the sofa down with him, and he lays there in a daze, blinking at the ceiling fan spinning above him. He’s taking deep, shaking breaths, but they don’t seem to be helping any. He doesn’t remember…how did he get here? Wasn’t he just with Ladybug, running along…Ladybug…Lady…

“Hey, kid, you good?”

He blinks at the floating kwami above him. No –_ kwamis_. Because while Plagg is the one who voiced the question, Tikki is floating beside him, worriedly nibbling on her paws…hands…whatever they are. (Over ten years and he’s still not entirely sure, at least not with her.) He looks back at Plagg, who’s watching him carefully with concern.

“Kid?” the kwami asks, and Adrien frowns.

“I’m…not a kid anymore,” he says, slowly, and Plagg just scoffs.

“To someone who’s been around since the dinosaurs, _kid_, you’re always gonna be a kid,” he says, but it’s just Plagg being Plagg. There’s kindness in the statement, a familiar warmth that anyone who knows the kwami as well as his Chosen does can recognize. It’s in the concern clouding his eyes, the worried twitching of his nose. “You good?”

“…yeah,” Adrien says, closing his eyes. “I just haven’t been sleeping well, what with…everything. Is Mari home yet?”

“Do you need to call the shrink?” Plagg asks, ignoring his question. He sighs and sits up, resting his arms on the sofa and coffee table.

“No, I’m ok,” he says. He smiles at Plagg. “Really. Now. Is Mari home yet?”

“You haven’t been asleep too long,” Tikki says, zooming around his head before nuzzling against his cheek. “You have just enough time to shower before she gets here, if you want.”

“…yeah. A shower might be good,” he says, scratching the top of Tikki’s head. A shower sounds perfect, actually.

– V –

“I got an interesting phone call earlier today,” Marinette comments over dinner. He looks at her over the rims of his glasses, and she smiles before looking back at her menu. If she looks nervous or uneasy, he doesn’t really notice. He adjusts his glasses, looking back at his own menu, and frowns. (He hates the glasses. She says they make him look _distinguished_, but he just thinks they make him look like his father. He hates looking like his father. But he had run out of contacts, and with everything going on…this time of year, he had forgotten to reorder, and the eye doctor had been out of samples in his prescription.)

“Oh?” he asks, and she hums before putting the menu down.

“Nathalie’s up for parole next month,” she says, too casually for the way it makes him choke on his water, “and I’m pregnant.”

“_What?_” he spits. “How could they possibly…but she was _Mayura!_ She was implicit in Hawkmoth’s plans, and they’re just going to let her _walk?!_”

“Nothing’s decided yet,” Marinette says before placing her menu on the table. She folds her hands over the laminated sheet, leveling him with a focused stare. “The warden called me in case you wanted to be there. I told him you probably wouldn’t, but I’d ask all the same. It’s just a hearing, Adrien. They’ll review her behavior, get a few character witnesses – _if_ they can find any.”

She sounds skeptical, but he’s not so sure. Nathalie had always been a master of deception, so good at fooling people. She’d had him fooled for the longest time, but then again so had his…so had Hawkmoth.

She’s had a decade to fool them all over again.

“People are still…Paris is still recovering from the akuma attacks, emotionally if not physically,” Marinette continues. “Even if Nathalie’s been a model inmate, I don’t know if they would let her out. I don’t know how safe it would be for her. Hawkmoth never even made it to trial before someone killed him. I can’t see Mayura fairing much better.”

“I can’t…I’ll call him tomorrow,” he says, putting his own menu down. He’s not very hungry anymore. “I can’t be there, Marinette. I can’t see her.”

“I can go with you, if you change your mind,” she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. He smiles at her. The gesture is only slightly forced. “You have a month. I respect whatever decision you make, but think about it.”

“I don’t need to,” he says. “Thank you, really, but I can’t see her. Even after so long…I can’t do it, Mari.”

She squeezes his hand and nods, and she’s picked up her menu again when the other thing she’d said registers.

“Wait…pregnant?!”

– V –

The kwamis make themselves scarce when they get home, tripping over the threshold in love-drunk giggles and kisses. Tikki smiles knowingly at Plagg before they retreat to the Miracle Box, but neither Marinette nor Adrien pay them any mind.

He makes love to her that night like they have nowhere to be the next day, and when the morning comes he calls in a mental health day (all of Paris knows what time of year it is, and no one questions it when he says he needs a day) before he loses himself in her all over again. Hours later her laugh is breathy as she begs for a reprieve, claiming he’s going to wear out the baby, but the reminder that _they’re pregnant_ sets him kissing her all over again.

He’s happy, so blissfully happy, and it’s such an odd feeling for this time of year. Warm afternoon sunlight spills in through the balcony doors, bathing the sleeping Marinette in its warm glow. He’s tangled between her legs, chin resting low on her abdomen as he watches her in enraptured amazement.

How had he gotten so lucky? His amazing Lady and his remarkable friend had been the same person, and somehow she had agreed to marry him, and now they are going to have a baby. A _baby._ He presses his lips to her skin, bemused by the twists of his life. It’s so much like a dream…like…

– V –

“I have a crush on Marinette,” he mumbles groggily, not fully awake. He shifts, burying his face deeper into the warm pillow it’s pressed against. His mumbling becomes more coherent as he begins to wake up, chasing the train of thought. “I have a crush on Marinette, because she’s Ladybug, and I have a crush on Ladybug, and she has a crush on me, which means she has a crush on Chat, because I’m Chat, and…”

He frowns as something soft slaps into his face. His eyes creak open to find a sock laying across them.

“She’s in bed next to you,” Plagg grumbles from the dresser. “You’re married. She’s having your kitten in a few months.”

“Marinette’s having my baby,” he breathes, pressing his lips to her neck.

“Go back to sleep, you moron,” Plagg sighs, “or next time I’ll throw a _used_ sock at you.”

– V –

“Adrien?”

She sounds so distant.

“Adrien, minou, _breathe_.”

He is, isn’t he?

“That’s it, minou. Deep, steady breaths. In, out. In, out.”

There are hands on his face, pulling his gaze from the television to lock on her steady, unwavering bluebell eyes. She doesn’t even look worried. She’s focused solely on him, one of her hands running up his face to brush his hair back. His eyes close as her fingers scratch along his scalp. That’s right…everything’s ok. Marinette’s here.

“Where’d you go, Adrien?” she asks him softly, and his eyes flick back to the television screen. Nadja Chamack has just announced that Nathalie Sancoeur, the villain formerly known as Mayura, would be released on parole next week.

_They were letting her go. She was getting away with it. She was going to find him. She was going to –_

“Adrien!” Marinette calls again, louder, squeezing his face to force his attention back to her. He swallows thickly.

“I…I think I should call Dr. Thomas,” he says. Her smile is sympathetic, if a little heartbroken, or maybe he’s just reading too much into it.

“I already did,” she says, pulling his face towards her to press her forehead against his own. “You have an appointment at one.”

– V –

Dr. Thomas’s office is as welcoming as it ever is, and perhaps that is why he can never get comfortable there. The rest of the building is sleek, modern architecture with lots of metal and glass. Dr. Thomas’s office is done in warm, rich wood, with plush leather seating in matching browns. There’s a fern in the corner and orchids in various hues hanging by the window, and that window is the only source of glass in the room. Adrien knows that Dr. Thomas was meticulous about the room, wanting it to feel more homey and welcoming than the sterility of the outer practice. He wanted his patients to feel safe.

The problem was Adrien hadn’t felt truly _safe_ in a long, long time.

“Marinette said you’ve been having the dreams again,” Dr. Thomas says, glancing up over the rims of his thick glasses. Adrien hates his glasses almost as much as he hates his own. Maybe, he realizes, he just hates all glasses in general (which isn’t really fair to Nino). When he shrugs, Dr. Thomas looks back to his notes and jots something down. “You’d been making good progress, Adrien.”

“It’s…just been a lot,” he says – mumbles. Dr. Thomas runs his fingers along his thick, black beard, and Adrien thinks how he looks like another man he’d known, once upon a time. One who’d been in charge of the Ladybug and Chat Noir animated feature. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like him.

…but no, that’s wrong. He doesn’t dislike Dr. Thomas. He’s actually really grateful for him. The psychiatrist has helped him through so much over the years, and if not for him Adrien isn’t sure where he’d be. Probably still in that psych ward. In…

“With the anniversary and Ms. Sancoeur being released at the same time,” Dr. Thomas prompts, and Adrien shrugs. “Marinette also mentioned she’s pregnant. I know you two have been trying, but that always adds stress to a relationship. No matter how much you want the child or attempt to prepare, the reality of a baby can be overwhelming for first-time parents.”

“I’m not worried about the baby,” Adrien scoffs. Dr. Thomas’s eyebrows lift inquiringly. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t exactly have the most ideal childhood, Adrien,” he says. “It’s all right to be concerned about being a father when your own father –”

“Hid his dead wife in the basement while he terrorized all of Paris with evil butterflies?” Adrien snaps. Dr. Thomas scribbles something in his notes, and Adrien sighs heavily. “Sorry. You’re right – of course you’re right – but…I’m not scared. I’m not worried at all about being a dad. I’m excited. I know I can do better than my…than he did. I’m not going to murder Marinette, for one.”

“There was never any evidence that Gabriel was the one to harm your mother, Adrien,” Dr. Thomas reminds him, but Adrien dismisses the assurance easily. No, there had never been any evidence. Master Fu had suspected his mother’s death had had something to do with the damaged Peacock Miraculous, and while that didn’t necessarily incriminate his father Adrien also knows it didn’t exonerate him, either. Gabriel had encouraged Nathalie to become Mayura, after all, knowing full well what the damaged Miraculous had done to his wife. He no longer holds any fantasy that his father had ever been a _good person_.

“Has Marinette told you about the letters, Adrien?” Dr. Thomas asks, catching him off guard and pulling him from his musings.

“What letters?” he asks, and Dr. Thomas sighs.

“I had thought she was planning on telling you before Ms. Sancoeur’s trial. Ms. Sancoeur has been writing you letters for quite some time, Adrien,” Dr. Thomas says.

“No, she hasn’t,” he insists. “I’ve never seen one.”

“Because every time one comes Marinette hides it from you. In her defense, she’s never read them, either,” Dr. Thomas says. He taps his pen on his notepad. “She’s been giving them to me. I’ve read them, Adrien. Ms. Sancoeur is aware you haven’t received any of them, or at least suspects, and in every one she asks for your forgiveness. She’s sorry for hurting you like she did. She cares for you, Adrien.”

“Ladybug is the only one who cares about me,” he says bitterly. Dr. Thomas pauses, again raising both eyebrows.

“Ladybug?”

“…Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug,” he says forcefully. The concerned look doesn’t leave Dr. Thomas’s face. Of course he knows about Chat Noir and Ladybug, of course Adrien and Marinette had trusted him with that information ages ago – Adrien hadn’t really been able to make any real headway with his therapy until Dr. Thomas had understood the full story. “I’m sorry. I…I’ve been forgetting. Sometimes.”

“Your mind blocks out the painful memories that came with learning who Ladybug is, which sometimes overshadows everything else you learned then,” Dr. Thomas says simply. He takes a deep breath, trying not to ignore him while wanting nothing more than to block him out at the same time. “It’s natural. What’s not natural is that you keep defaulting to that position. That’s what worries me, Adrien.”

“…it worries me, too, Doc.”

– V –

“What if, one day, I forget and can’t remember?”

The question is asked so simply in the quiet of their room. She’s almost asleep, but his soft voice pulls her back to him. She stirs and lifts her head, squinting at him through the dark.

“Huh?” she mumbles, clearly not following his train of thought.

“I keep forgetting, Marinette,” he says. “That the past ten years happened. That Gabriel’s dead. That he was _Hawkmoth_. What if I wake up one day, and I’ve forgotten, and I don’t remember?”

“You always do, minou,” she sighs, laying her ear over his heart. “You always come back to me. It’s not physical trauma that makes you forget – it’s psychological. And you will always recover from that.”

“Some people don’t,” he points out, and she pinches him lightly.

“You did,” she says sharply. “You will. You won’t forget, minou. I won’t let you.”

“I might not give you a choice,” he says. His voice is as bitter as his thoughts, but that bitterness is directed towards himself. Never her. She was his saving grace. His miracle. His miraculous Marinette.

His breath leaves him in a rush as she slides onto him and pushes down, thoroughly distracting him from his darker thoughts. His hands catch her hips as she rocks against him, his thoughts growing murkier by the moment.

“I won’t give you a choice,” she breathes against his ear. “I won’t let you forget me for too long, Adrien.”

– V –

But, in the end, she did. Because, in the end, none of it is actually real, is it?

Some of it is. Some of it is too cruel to not be real.

Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth. He was also dead. Except that _grieving citizen_ was Nathalie Sancoeur, and she wasn’t up for parole anywhere because as Officer Raincomprix went to tackle her to the ground she had turned the gun on herself.

Those three weeks in the psych ward were real, and Dr. Thomas is real. Except he still sees him on the regular because, in the end…

…Ladybug is Marinette, and Marinette is Ladybug, and once upon a time he was Chat Noir. It’s just that – sometimes – he forgets.

– V –

The easiest thing to do, she knows, would be to forget. The problem is he already has, and she refuses to follow suit.

Marinette’s fingers tighten on the strap of her purse, where Tikki and Plagg are peeking through at the golden-haired man behind the glass. ‘Golden’ may not be the right word anymore. It used to be, back before the Bad Days. Back when it was washed and treated with the most expensive products on the regular.

Back before Gabriel Agreste was unmasked as Hawkmoth and Adrien Agreste’s world crashed down around him.

She nods at the nurse that greets her, returning her smile no matter how much it hurts. Her phone buzzes with a text from Luka, asking if she’s all right and reminding her that they have to meet her parents in half an hour. Reminding her to bring the sonogram photo. Asking if Adrien’s all right. Reminding her he loves her.

She leaves before Adrien can see her. He usually doesn’t, even when she’s sitting right beside him and holding his hand.

The easiest thing to do would be to forget. The problem is he already has, and she won’t abandon her partner like he abandoned her.

_sign above his door says ‘welcome home’_

_but he just sits and stares_

_he’s awake but still not there_

_oh, adrian, come out and play…_

_. . : : adrian – jewel : : . ._


End file.
